No Gate, No Lock, No Bolt
by systematic-alchemy
Summary: All wronged by Thelonious, Clarke, Wells, and Murphy have to survive on the streets. Can they pull themselves out of the gutter or will they drown there?
1. Chapter 1

Concealing her face from all the cameras, Clarke walked up and down the grocery store isles. While purchasing nothing but a bottle of cheap soda, she walked away with enough food for the three and medication for Wells.

As she walked back to their squat, her fingers turned red with the tips chapped and bleeding from the cold. She didn't know how much longer they'd last this winter without heat. Wells's cough kept getting worse, showing no sign of getting better. Not even the black nurses took him at the clinic because he was too dark.

The metal door squeaked as she entered the abandoned factory. Between the large but non-operational machines various teens made their homes. She knew most of them. Lincoln and Octavia stayed over near the press, with O's brother on the other side, separate but never far from his sister. Monty and Jasper slept near the coil with Harper and Monroe. Finn and Raven made their nest under the stairs, while Lexa, Anya and Indra took the office since they were the unofficial leaders of this squat. Every level held people Clarke knew at least in passing, and could rely on to not turn her group in to the cops.

Wells's coughing echoed through the entire place, and she felt each one in the center of her chest. When she made it to their area, curtained off using old oil rags pinned together and hanging from a conveyor belt, Murphy had Wells laying on his side as he coughed up sputum.

"At least he's getting some of the shit out of his lungs, eh?" Murphy sounded like he was trying to be optimistic about it.

"Yeah." She wiped the spit off Wells's face and then checked for a fever. He wasn't hot enough to worry, so she just poured cough syrup down his throat and waited for him to fall asleep. Cough medication always knocked Wells out cold.

John leaned against the wall and she settled down next to him. "He needs a doctor."

"I took him to the ER yesterday while you were out. They didn't officially turn him away, but they called everyone else that came in and never called him back. After twelve hours of the staff ignoring me at my most obnoxious, we gave up and came back here." Murphy leaned his head back and sighed. "Where'd you go?"

"I was trying to get cash. No luck though." She rested her head on Murphy's shoulder.

"You went to your parents didn't you?"

Clarke ignored the question and wrapped her arm through John's. "We need money. I don't think we can afford to be squeamish anymore."

Murphy's resignation surprised her. "Bellamy owes me a few favors, we'll get him to look over Wells while we're gone."

"We should get moving. We need to make a couple stops on our way."

* * *

Not long after finishing the soup Bellamy gave him, the questions started. "Hey Wells, isn't your family rich or something?"

"I guess." He sighed and coughed again.

"So why are you homeless?" Bellamy asked.

Wells understood the question. None of these kids would be homeless if they had another choice, and Clarke had one.

"What's the story there?" Bellamy passed Wells the bottle of Duggan's he'd gotten that afternoon.

"I'm not a drinker, but thanks." Wells coughed to the point of blackout. When his surroundings came into focus again, he couldn't remember why Bell was there. "Huh?"

"Clarke and Murphy have me babysitting you." Bellamy helped prop him against the wall.

"Oh, ah, yeah." Wells remembered now. "What were we talking about?"

"You were about to tell me how you and Clarke ended up on the streets." Bellamy made a fire in the metal barrel Clarke found last week.

"Clarke's father died about five years ago. My mother died giving birth. Abby married my dad four years ago. So things were okay for a year, but when they found out my boy friend coming for weekends was my boyfriend, they kicked me out. She tried to stop them. Told them that if they kicked me out, she was leaving too. They didn't care." Wells sighed. "They still don't."

"How'd you two get mixed up with Murphy? I mean out of every street kid I've ever met, he's got to be the most fucked up." The fire crackled and more smoke rose out of it than when Clarke stoked one.

"Murphy, ah, Murphy's hated my family for a long time. My father laid off both his parents in the same wave. His father died working a dangerous pay-by-the-day, and his mother drank herself to death afterward. His father had to take the pay-by-the-day job because Murphy was sick and the medical bills got expensive. So Clarke and I had the fortune or misfortune to run into Murphy before anyone else." Wells hacked again, little strings of blood in the mucus. "He started a fight with me that Clarke broke up. She talked him into being our biggest ally since my father didn't treat me any better than he treated anyone else. In return we got him clean, and that's, I guess, that."

"They love you though. Clarke and Murphy. You know that, right?" Bellamy asked as he warmed his hands over the flames.

"Clarke's my best friend, of course she loves me. But Murphy's loyal out of some misplaced sense of something, I don't even know what."

"Yeah, that's why he's out there right now trying to get you medical help. Because he's got a misplaced sense of loyalty." Bellamy shook his head and smirked sardonically. "Do you any idea what he went through before you? His loyalty stems from gratitude, the gratitude of you and Clarke saving his life and caring about him. Has he ever told you what the last words his mother said to him before she died?"

Wells shook his head.

"She told him he killed his father. So when you and Clarke came along and cleaned up after his puke, held him while he cried through shaking withdrawal, and never turned your back on him, that might be the first time since his father that anyone's ever cared about him. So if you ever suggest to him you've just been using him this entire time, I'll hold you down while he slits your throat." Bellamy didn't sound acidic, simply truthful.

"I never said I didn't care about Murphy. I said I don't think he cares about me." Wells went into another coughing fit.

When he woke up, dawn peaked through the windows and Clarke and Murphy flanked him, the three of them covered by a thick warm new blanket.


	2. Chapter 2

The doctor listened to Wells' lungs as he wheezed and coughed. "I'm sending you for an x-ray. You may have pneumonia." She frowned as she noticed the worried looks on his friends' faces. "Is that a problem?"

Clarke sighed. "We can cover it if he doesn't need medication, but at a hundred bucks for this visit, we're out half our money."

"I understand your concern. Let me send our social worker in to speak to you. He knows a lot of programs for free or reduced price medications. I can give Wells a prescription for one of the antibiotics he recommends. But I'd prefer it if he got that x-ray. Normally we'd have to have him come in after that to get a script. Is there a reason you didn't go to an emergency room?"

"We tried." Murphy snorted. "They never called him back. We were there for over twelve hours before giving up when they called a woman back for a scrape that didn't even need stitches."

"Why would they do that?"

"Most likely because our parents either own or are on the boards for all the hospitals in the area. They'd rather see him dead then tr…" Clarke stopped when Wells went into a huge coughing fit. She caught him as he passed out. "Murph."

He was right there though, helping her hold Wells. "Got him."

The doctor checked his vitals again. "With his oxygen levels this low, he needs to be in a hospital. Does he blackout like this often?"

"Didn't the nurse mention? He passes out a couple times a day. But no hospital around here will take him."

"Can you get him over the state line?" Checking Wells' eyes as he came to, she asked him, "Do you know where you are?"

"He takes a few seconds to get his bearings again." Clarke saw the urine soaking his jeans. These blackouts were getting scarier.

"Do you know where you are, Wells?" the doctor asked again.

Wells gasped for air between words. "The doctor's office. Clarke and John brought me."

"I'll have the nurse give him a breathing treatment, an inhaler to take with you, and the recommendation to get him to a hospital ASAP. I'll have our social worker find the best one. And I'll call ahead and tell them to expect you in admitting, so you can avoid the emergency room fees."

When they were alone, the three of them met glances. "And how are we getting to Virginia?"

"We'll steal a car." Clarke's matter of fact response surprised Murphy.

"And risk getting arrested? Split up?" Murphy whisper yelled. "Are you insane?"

"And what do you recommend, Murphy? Letting Wells die?"

"Is there a bus?" Wells asked.

"It'd take too long. Murphy, please, we'll meet you out back, just get us a car. The richer the better, they can afford to replace it easier." Clarke squeezed John's hand. "Please."

"Fine. But I won't go until he's done with his treatment. Don't want to sit around in a stolen car. Good thing I learned how to disable gps systems."

* * *

Clarke and Murphy sat on either side of Wells' bed at the hospital in Alexandria. Wells was sleeping with an oxygen mask on his face and O2 sensor on his finger. She couldn't take her eyes off the monitors. His oxygen was too low. If it didn't stop going down, he could suffer brain damage, organ failure, or both, or die. Her concentration on the monitors made her miss when Murphy fell asleep. The ability to sit with Wells tonight was a luxury they wouldn't be able to afford again. Tomorrow night her and Murphy would rent their bodies out again.

Tonight was bought by turning the Mercedes into a chop shop that paid well enough. She knew she needed sleep, but her nerves wouldn't let her. His oxygen dropped another point setting off alarms and heralding a cadre of nurses. They told her and a now awake Murphy to leave the room. Murphy had to drag her as she broke down.

"I can't lose him. Murphy, I can't. I can't do this without him." Her weeping cut off her air and she coughed and sputtered until calming. Murphy held her the entire time, whispering how Wells would be fine. The medication just needed time to kick into gear.

The nurses wheeled Wells out of his room. One of the extras told them, "He's stable but we're taking him to the ICU. You can visit during visiting hours tomorrow."

Clarke's heart clenched as she clutched Murphy's hand. "He'll be OK. He has to be. So we should make sure he has a home to go to when he gets out, right?"

"Yeah, we do, so let's find a corner." Murphy wiped the stray tears from Clarke's face then kissed her forehead before slinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her away.

The corner they picked was in a low rent part of town, but the line of bars and liquor stores made it prime grounds for selling themselves. In no time Murphy walked away with a guy carrying an extra fifty pounds in his beer gut. Less than fifteen minutes later, she got into the car of man smelling of cheap cigars.

No such thing as haggling and no such thing as an hourly rate. They charged simple fees of sixty per cum. More would get them nothing, and less would signify an addiction, and higher risk of STIs for the tricks.

* * *

Murphy worked to not fall asleep on the corner waiting for Clarke to return. The concrete froze his already sore ass as his eyelids drooped. When a car stopped, and she stumbled out, he shot to his feet to catch her. Her lip was split and dripping blood, her eyes were both blackened, and there was a scrape along her jaw. But she smiled at him.

"Got two grand." She couldn't hold herself up. "And a twisted ankle in need of ice. I say we get breakfast."

"Sounds good. But you know you can't let Wells see you like this. He'd panic and cough himself to death."

"I know." She used him as a crutch as they hobbled to the diner two blocks away.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where's Clarke?" Wells asked Murphy when she didn't follow him in the door.

"Securing us a new home." Murphy touched Wells' forehead and cheek. "The fever's gone?"

"Yeah. And the breathing treatments help a lot too. The nurse said I might be the shortest stay in the ICU she's ever seen. They're shipping me back to a regular room right after visiting hours." Wells coughed, and John was relieved that he didn't pass out this time. "Where's Clarke really?"

"Like I said, she's securing us a new home. The apartment she's checking out could only be seen during your visiting hours. You know she'd be here otherwise." Murphy sat on the edge of the bed and grasped Wells' hand when he reached out for it. "I have to tell you about this guy I saw last night. He had the most screwed up tattoos I've ever seen."

"Don't make me laugh. I don't think I'd survive." Wells coughed again bringing up a mouthful of phlegm he spit into the puke bason.

"I don't know what you expect to talk about then. Everything I say's a laugh riot." Murphy rubbed his thumb across the back of Wells' hand. "I will say that I had to tell the knuckle-brained buffoons out there that we're brothers to get in to see you. Different fathers."

Wells laughed and coughed. When he calmed, he said, "I'm sure they're turning a blind eye you pasty ass idiot."

"So long as I can visit, I don't give a flying fuck." Murphy nudged Wells to the side and squeezed in to lay next to him. "You remember the first time we met?"

"How could I forget. You were crashing and pissed. Nearly killed me with that old rusty knife of yours." Wells wanted to be on his side, but the angle of the bed meant it would be painful if he tried.

"I'm glad I didn't kill you. Found a new family with you and Clarke. I think we all needed that."

"So tell me how we're affording an apartment at all when panhandling doesn't pay that well."

* * *

The woman showing Clarke the apartment kept staring at her like she was a dessert. If it were socially acceptable she'd probably be groping herself. As it was, she kept biting and licking her lips and rubbing the back of her neck.

"So all the utilities are included?" Clarke asked as she peered into the refrigerator to find it immaculate.

"Yes, and they're already on. You can move in anytime." The lady had to be in her thirties, but she was hot, thick and had cheekbones for days.

"What's your name again?"

"Elizabeth."

"Liz, is there any way we could shave off the security deposit? Don't you think having first and last month's rent is enough." Clarke leaned into Elizabeth and ran her hand up her back, slow and intentional.

"If you let me take care of those wounds." Liz's breathing hitched when Clarke nodded. Then she licked the cut on Clarke's lip. "Where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere," Clarke breathed before kissing Elizabeth.

An hour later, Clarke turned on her side in the bed. "You know we can make this a regular thing if you discount our rent."

"I can take a hundred a month off, but I can't do more than that, sorry." Elizabeth ran her fingers through Clarke's hair.

After a kiss, Clarke said, "Once a month I'll kick the guys out and we can spend some more quality time together then."

* * *

Murphy entered the apartment and whistled. "This is a piece of shit."

"But all the utilities are included, and it came with the furniture. And compared to the factory we were in before it's heaven." Clarke smiled uncaring of her split lip. The pain didn't register in light of an insulated and heated home. The middle of winter these days were colder and less forgiving than when she was little. "It even has a working dishwasher and a washer/dryer combo and a deep freezer. This place is perfect."

"It's a postage stamp." Murphy said as he walked five steps to the window another six to the kitchenette, and three more to the bathroom.

"We can afford it for six months, and we aren't that far out of town. We can still walk there or we're on a bus line. Come on! try to see the cup half full for once." She tugged him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

"OK, half full. It's a good thing we get along so well because we'll be in each other's' way all the time." He looked at the fridge and stove. "These are the tiniest appliances that weren't meant for dorms that I've ever seen."

"But they work and we can make our own food which is cheaper than eating out all the time."

He looked in the bathroom, dragging her with him. "There's a showerhead but no stall? And no sink?"

"There's a drain in the floor so the shower works as both the shower and the sink and it doesn't matter if the toilet gets splashed."

"So what's with the shower curtains lining the walls?" Murphy asked with an arched brow.

"The contractor messed up and used the wrong grout. They used the not waterproof kind. But they provided the curtains at least." Clarke smiled. "And all of us can fit in here at the same time easy."

"I do like that."

"So?"

"Fine, I'm sold." Murphy sighed. "Wells didn't believe me. He didn't think we could get enough panhandling to get an apartment."

"You didn't tell him how we got the money did you?"

"I lied and told him that an employee of a diner that doesn't exist roughed you up for ordering a never ending cup of coffee and staying the entire night. I was in the bathroom but the owner gave us a couple thou to forget it ever happened."

"It explains the money, and the cuts and bruises. You come up with the best lies. I only wonder what you've lied to me about."

His smile was overly innocent. "Not a damn thing. Shall we Christen the bed?"

"Already done. It's how I got the discount that let's afford this for so long. Besides, we need to get things like food and cleaning supplies but it comes with dishes that aren't disgusting so we don't need much there. But we need more money, so we need to go out again. The money we got last night needs to pay for this place for a while."

"So we panhandle until dusk and then hit the corner?"

"Yup. And there's a 24 hour market around the corner so when we're done, we can get a lot of the shopping out of the way."

"So this isn't a food desert. You should have mentioned that up front. I wouldn't have given you such a hard time about the place. A 24 hour grocery makes it better than perfect heaven." Murphy sighed when she let go of him. "Sorry. I forgot food deserts weren't something you had to worry about growing up."

"I'm the one that should apologize. I wasn't upset about the reminder of how you grew up. I was upset that you had to grow up like that. That food deserts even exist. I feel like such a spoiled brat for whining about wanting the latest phone or whatever growing up." Clarke hugged Murphy tight. "I want to give you and Wells everything you could ever want because you both deserve it. Without the two of you, I wouldn't have made it out here."

"Without Wells you wouldn't be on the streets." He buried his face in her hair.

"I would have eventually. As soon as they found out that Wells wasn't the only one that swung both ways."

"True. But maybe you would have been old enough to sign a lease or get a grant or scholarship to go to college and live on campus."

She held on to him even tighter, ignoring the pain in her ribs because she needed to be close to him. "I love you, John Murphy."

"Love you too, Clarke Griffin."

When they parted she had tears in her eyes. "We should go."


	4. Chapter 4

Wells sat in his room, waiting for the doctor to discharge him. The last thing he wanted to do was make a scene here, but the bruises on Clarke's face were worth more than a couple thousand dollars of hush money. Why would they take such a small amount? He'd been waiting days to have that discussion with them, and now that he could talk without coughing till he lost control of his body, he wanted to look out for his family. Her face was half-covered with sick purple and green bruises, shallow cuts, and swelling. Wells could tell her ribs hurt her, and she had a limp.

He also needed to know what jobs they got. All they would say was overnight positions for under the table cash. The lack of job description and details worried him even more. While both of them were in the room with him they were curled up in his bed, sleeping.

The nurse came in with his discharge papers and talked loud enough that sleeping beauties should've woken up. Other than a small shift and flinch, they stayed knocked out.

"You need to get these prescriptions filled immediately. One's a Z pack, and these are the instructions. The rest are inhalers and allergy medications for your asthma." She handed him the papers. "Drink lots of water, get plenty of rest, and don't exert yourself until you absolutely have to. But you should stretch your legs every few hours to prevent blood clots." More papers. "You can leave any time. That is if you can wake your friends up."

"Thank you," Wells said then watched the nurse leave. He looked over the paperwork carefully. "How are we going to afford any of these?" There were six prescriptions and one was for a nebulizer machine.

Clarke tried to turn over and woke up in time to catch herself from hitting the floor.

"You're cat woman." Wells smiled at her for a breath, then cleared his throat. "We need to get John up and get out of here."

"How many scripts?" Clarke asked taking the papers from him.

"Six."

"That's not so bad. I got these covered. Get John up, so he can get you home. I'll get these filled and meet you there in a few hours." Clarke folded the papers and shoved them in her pocket as she limped out of the room.

With a sigh, Wells shoved himself out of the chair and over to Murphy. He took a moment to appreciate how innocent John looked while he slept. The sharp angles appeared to soften when he slept. Wells ran his fingers through Murphy's too long hair. "Hey there sleeping beauty, it's time to get up."

"Go away," Murphy mumbled as he turned over.

"Just get us home, and you can go back to sleep." Wells tugged the pillow out from under Murphy's head when he got no response.

John jolted to his feet. "What, huh, er." He blinked a few times between rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Oh, ah, where's Clarke?"

"She said she can fill my scripts and that she'd meet us at home." Wells handed Murphy a glass of water from the nightstand. "How far away from this new home are we?"

"Two buses, about forty-five minutes." Murphy yawned and then clapped his hand on Wells' back. "Got us some bus passes for the month."

Wells raised an eyebrow. "Where's all this money coming from?"

"Long arduous hours of work." The twitch in Murphy's eye wasn't missed by Wells, but he was letting the subject drop for now.

* * *

"Told you I wouldn't leave a mark, Blondie. Now take your money and get lost before the missus gets home."

"She works daylight every weekday, right?" Clarke asked as she gingerly got to her feet.

"I've got money to burn, so stop by anytime between ten and six. But if you see her beamer in the drive, scram."

"And why do you drive a beat up pick up again?"

"Sentimental reasons. Now get out, bitch."

Her clothes irritated her old scabbing wounds, and her new invisible injuries made moving tough, but she had enough money to get Wells' scripts. The wad of bills in her hand were an answered prayer of sorts. An answer for which she sacrificed a lot.

When she finally made it home, the lights were out and Murphy was curled around Wells as they slept. She set the bag with the nebulizer and other medications on the counter and removed her clothes as she walked toward the bathroom, sucking in her breath and suppressing pain filled moans. She turned the bathroom light on and turned the water on hot. With her forearm in her mouth, she sobbed and crumbled to the floor. When the door opened she tried to hurry and appear as though she'd been cleaning her feet, but she didn't have a washcloth or anything.

Murphy looked at her, stripping his boxers off. "I got ya." He wrapped his arms around her and let her sob into the crook of his neck. "I got ya." He lost his fingers in her hair when she flinched in pain when he touched her back.

* * *

Murphy made breakfast while Wells stared at Clarke. She hadn't slept and at the moment she lay in bed as her stare was out the window. Wells had tried talking to Clarke since he woke up, but she couldn't even look at him. Murphy knew that she would have some issues coming to terms with becoming a whore. He'd been doing it for so long, he almost forgot what it was like in the early days. But seeing Clarke this last week go through everything he had brought it all back.

With a flick of his wrist, he flipped the pancake. "Butter? Syrup?"

Wells turned his attention to John. "Both if we have it."

"I asked for the shits and giggles of seeing your disappointment when I told you we don't really have those things." Murphy pointed to the counter where a bottle of syrup sat next to a stick of butter in a plastic dish.

"Thanks." Wells sighed as he grabbed the butter. An hour ago he'd been starving, but now, he could barely think about food. After breakfast he would take Murphy outside and demand the answers he couldn't get from Clarke.


	5. Chapter 5

Wells finished eating his pancakes washed down with a small cup of milk and waited for Murphy to finish his breakfast. Once the dishes were rinsed and put in the dishwasher, Wells slapped Murphy on the shoulder. "Let's take a walk and get to know the neighborhood."

Murphy gave Wells a studied glance before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

They piled on the layers since neither of them had coats. They wrapped their socked feet with plastic bags before putting on their worn out shoes with dozens of holes. The snow was too high to skip this step. When they got outside, Murphy didn't wait for Wells to beat around the bush like he always did. "What do you want to ask me without Clarke around to hear it? If you're going to ask if I'm clean, the answer is yes."

"What I want to know is the truth behind Clarke's catatonia." Wells rolled his eyes when Murphy looked confused. "Why isn't she talking, or moving, or eating?"

"She's in a lot of pain from that guy beating on her, and she spent all our spare cash on your meds and got none for herself. How's she supposed to act?" Murphy huffed when Wells remained speechless. "And before you say something stupid like she shouldn't have done that, remember that Clarke and me would give our lives to see you better if that's what it took."

Wells tried to talk but went into a coughing fit. He forgot his inhaler in the apartment and thought this might be it as the world blacked out.

* * *

He woke up in bed with all the blankets wrapped around him, and Clarke leaning over him with his inhaler in her hand. "I put the spacer on too. Remember how to use this?"

Wells nodded and took two puffs from his inhaler. "Where's…"

"Shh, you should do a breathing treatment. Which kind did you do last? The albuterol or the duo neb?"

"Duo."

She busied herself setting up his breathing treatment and then handed him the mouthpiece. "This should help. And you shouldn't go outside until the weather gets better. Asthma and pneumonia don't do well in frigid temperatures."

Clarke turned and got up. She nodded toward the door as she looked at Murphy. And they disappeared into the hall for several minutes. When they came back, Murphy sat next to Wells whose breathing treatment was only half finished.

"We called to get some help to take care of you while me and Clarke are at work at night." Murphy could see that Wells was unhappy. "Anya's on the next bus here."

Wells nodded his understanding and sighed in relief that at least it wasn't Bellamy again. Bell asked too many questions while Anya was stoic. Both were loyal, but if he'd been asked who he wanted, he would have said Anya. He rested his head on the headboard relieved that Clarke and Murphy knew him like that.

"When you're done with that you should drink some water and get some sleep," Clarke said from behind Murphy.

Jaha nodded again feeling his eyelids droop.

* * *

Murphy caught a bus downtown and found a place to wire Anya money for the bus. He saw a couple guys that were probably drug dealers and licked his lips and paused before passing them. Then he turned around and lifted his chin in their direction. The way they looked around cinched it, they were dealers all right.

"Got anything for pain? Morphine? Dilaudid? Or even some Codeine would help."

The taller of them turned out to be a chick. "We've got oxies, and a little morphine."

"The morphine's not sulfate is it?" Murphy asked. "I'm not wasting my money on the equivalent of a 10mg percocet."

"What's the difference?" the guy asked.

"Never mind. You don't have what I need." Murphy turned away from what were amateurs or scammers. Murphy skipped the bus and walked through one of the ghettos looking for what he needed. There was a big chance he'd get beat down for his money, but there was just as much chance he'd score.

* * *

Murphy waited downtown for Anya's bus to arrive. His toes numb from the cold and wet on the right foot from a hole in the plastic bag he'd missed. Anya was impossible to miss. Tall, gorgeous with the coolest braids he'd ever seen was hard to overlook. "Ayn!"

"Murphy. You said you'd make this worth my while." Anya tossed her bag at him, and he slung it over his shoulder.

"You'll have a warm place to sleep while you're here, hot water, food, and we'll even get you some new clothes and another card for your cell. But more importantly you get to make sure one of the kids you took in stays alive." Murphy handed her a bus pass. "We only have two of these, so we all have to share."

"You got a place?" Anya was impressed. "I assume you're turning tricks."

"Not just me, Clarke too, but we're keeping Wells in the dark about that. You know how he is. He hates breaking any law. He'll only turn a blind eye when he has no choice." Murphy checked the time on the bank sign. "The bus to get us to our miniscule apartment will be here in ten. Got a smoke?"

She pulled a pack of generics out of her pocket and hit it so a couple poked out. Murphy took one and lit up. "I'm guessing there's no smoking in the apartment."

"Wells has both pneumonia and asthma. We can't smoke anywhere near him."

"Small price for a warm place to crash."

* * *

Clarke hugged Anya when she got through the door. "Thank you for coming, Anya."

"I'm as loyal as you've always been." Anya took in the studio apartment. "This is nice, but it will be tight with the four of us here."

"I know it's not much bigger than a closet, but we can sleep in shifts. Murphy and I work the night shift and if we don't leave now, we'll be late."

Murphy had been filling up a water bottle, and said, "Just another second. We need one more bottle."

Clarke capped the bottle on the counter while Murphy did the same with the one he'd just filled. "This is a good idea."

"Thanks, but you were right. We have to move it." Murphy nodded at Anya and said, "Don't give Anya too hard a time, got it, Wells?"

"Got it."

Once outside, Murphy grabbed Clarke's hand, stopping her as he turned the palm up. "Take two of these if the pain gets bad, but no more than six in twenty four hours."

The pill bottle was labeled for a Marcus Kane and said morphine 30mg. "Where'd you get morphine?"

"Got it from Marcus. I met him today. Said he didn't need them anymore, so he sold them for a steal. And I thought you were in pain and these would help." Murphy knew what her expression meant. "Look if you don't take over six in twenty four, you shouldn't get addicted. And you won't make any money if you keep wincing with every movement."

Her body decided for her. There was no part that didn't hurt. She popped two in her mouth and washed them down with the water Murphy brought with them. "How long will it take to kick in?"

"At the most twenty minutes. You might get a little nauseous, but I brought some bread for you if that happens. It'll absorb the stomach acids and you'll feel better."

She took the plastic baggie with a four bread slices in it and put it in her pocket. "Thanks. Now lets get to work."

"You know once I get to know the scene here we could deal and get just as much money, same amount of risk pig speaking, and not have to hook anymore." Murphy held her hand as they walked the five blocks to the same corner they were on last time.

"But the jail time for dealing is a lot worse, and I don't want to be responsible for someone getting addicted." Clarke winced when she stepped off the curb and hoped the pills kicked in soon.

"Just thought I'd throw it out there. I know turning tricks is hard, didn't know which you'd find worse."

"Well for future reference, I'll always pick to hurt myself over someone else."

"You're not too far from eighteen, right?" Murphy asked.

"My birthday's in a month. Why?" Clarke asked as she made a kissy face toward the passing car.

"You could take the GED and then apply for college and grants and stuff." Murphy blew a kiss to the next car that passed. "We need to think of a permanent way out of the gutter."

"I'll go to the library tomorrow and look up what I need to do for that. Maybe check out some GED prep books." A car pulled up to the curb and Clarke leaned on the door. "Which of us do you want, sugar?"

The guy eyed them. "How much for both of you?"

"Let's see your dick first." Clarke smiled sweetly.

The guy whipped out his flaccid penis, and Clarke and Murphy hopped in the car.

"One twenty for both of us," Murphy said.

"Deal. Where should we go?"

"Around the block in the alley behind the warehouses," Clarke said grateful that the drugs were kicking in.


	6. Chapter 6

The library was a lot more crowded than Clarke expected, but she'd promised Murphy and need to take better care of Wells. This was the least she could do. She took twenty minutes to find the GED prep books while she waited for a computer to free up. Typing hurt her forearms, but that didn't stop her from looking up the information she needed. The fee for the test wasn't beyond their current means and the next that she could get into was in two months. If she spent all her free time studying, she might be able to pass.

Her body, more specifically every orifice ached, so she popped a couple morphine and dry swallowed them, leaving a film of medicine in her mouth that tasted foul. She wrote down the information she needed on a scrap of paper and checked out the books before heading home. Clarke needed to get some sleep before having to go back out tonight. They only had the one trick last night and needed more money.

As she walked home, she hugged the books to her chest. They were her only hope for salvation. The only way out of selling herself to take care of her little family.

* * *

Wells watched Clarke sleep next to Murphy and couldn't stop the nagging feeling in his gut. She'd been so despondent lately. No matter how hard things had gotten for them, she'd always had a positive spin for everything, but that wasn't so anymore. He hadn't seen her smile in over a week. Not even a forced one.

"Why are you so unhappy?" he mused to himself, but Anya heard him.

She took pity on him and said, "She's sacrificed to keep your little family safe. It'll take her time to come to terms with what she's done."

"What sacrifice?" Wells asked.

"Think about it. You'll get it." Anya turned the page in one of Clarke's library books and did the math in her head. Maybe she could convince Clarke and Murphy to pay for her to take the GED too. But she didn't want to make them do more than they already were.

Wells stood up and went over to Clarke's coat. He emptied the pockets and found a bottle of morphine, a wad of cash, and several condoms. Clarke moaned as she turned over and he looked at her sadly. "I never wanted her to do this."

"And there's nothing her and Murphy wouldn't do for you." Anya turned another page. "Do a breathing treatment. You're wheezing."

"They're both tricking?"

"What did you think they were doing at night?" she asked flipping forward to a more challenging section, English.

"They lied."

"Well, they know how you feel about rules." She gave up on trying to read the book and set it aside. "They know the score. If they tried to get legit jobs or even under the table jobs, they'd never be able to pay for your treatment and a place to stay. You'd die. They can't live without you."

He set up his treatment so he could get the breath to respond to her. After several deep inhalations he pulled the mouthpiece away and said, "How can I help them?"

"Don't make them feel bad about what they're doing." Anya turned in her stool to face him. "Take care of yourself so they can stop one day."

* * *

Two weeks later and Wells could go whole days without having to use more than his rescue inhaler. He hadn't told either Murphy or Clarke that he knew what they were doing at night. And Anya was nice enough to not say anything either. When he got out of the shower he found her packing her bags.

"Where are you going?" Wells asked.

"Home. You're better, so there's no reason for me to stay."

"Do you have money for the bus?"

"Clarke and Murphy pay their debts." Anya hugged him. "Take care of them."

"I will. But shouldn't we wake them up so you can say goodbye?"

Anya smirked. "I said goodbye to them last night."

"Thank you, Anya."

"You know where to find me if you need anything." She gave him a salute before walking out the door.

Wells ran the dishwasher, wiped down the counters and stove, and cleaned the blood out of the bottom of the fridge from the chicken he was about to cook. The chicken was half done when Murphy opened his eyes. "That smells great."

"Thanks. I hope it tastes as good. My cooking skills atrophied." Wells flipped the breasts over in the pan.

Murphy rolled out of bed and scratched his stomach. "I'm sure it's fine." He walked up behind Wells and wrapped his arms around his waist and rest his chin on Wells' shoulder. "Looks good."

"Hope it tastes OK." Wells rested his head on Murphy's. "Why don't you wake Clarke up and get cleaned up for dinner, or breakfast, or whatever this meal is."

John kissed the place where Wells' neck met his shoulder. "On it."

After shoving her and getting no response, Murphy yelled at Clarke, "Get up. Dinner."

She didn't respond, so he checked her breathing and temperature. She was warm but her breathing was almost nonexistent. "Clarke!" he shouted as he shook her. "Wells call 911."

Wells turned the flame off and grabbed their cell phone and made the call while John carried Clarke into the shower and doused her with cold water. She violently shook awake and screamed.

"You're OK," Murphy said sweeping her drenched hair back. "I got you. What happened?"

Clarke clutched Murphy's arms and continued to gasp for air coughing when she got mist in her lungs. Finally she got her head positioned away from the water and breathed better.

Wells stepped into the bathroom with a pill bottle in his hand. He turned it over spilling some tightly rolled paper out of it. "She snorted some."

"How many?" John demanded as he grabbed the sides of her face. "How many pills did you snort?"

"I don't remember." Clarke rested her forehead on his. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The paramedics were banging on the door, so Wells let them in and showed them to Clarke. They pulled her out of the bathroom and took her blood pressure and temperature, checked her eyes, and fingernails. They asked her a battery of questions and she claimed what happened was an accident, but they didn't believe her. The woman went to talk to Murphy and Wells. "We believe this was a suicide attempt. If she won't sign herself in, we'll have to commit her."

"You can't do that!" Murphy was panicking. "They'll take her away."

Tears pricked at the corners of Wells' eyes. "She'll be eighteen in less than a month. If I promise to not let her out of my sight, can we take care of her here?"

"I'm sorry." The woman shook her head. "Do you know how to get in touch with her parents?"

"I'll call them." Wells turned to Murphy who was still shouting at them with the other paramedic holding him back. He touched Murphy's shoulder, and the boy fell into his arms.

"Don't let them take her."

It was almost a battle to calm Murphy down, but it didn't happen before they took Clarke away in the ambulance.


End file.
